You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.

If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Name: Password:

Login

Quick & Easy

Sithspawn

Summary

Sithspawn is an intermediate to advanced play-by-post role-playing forum. Set in the immensely rich Star Wars universe, the game takes place some years after 3,000 Before Battle of Yavin. For more information on the Timeline, History and events on Sithspawn please browse the links under Navigation.

Timeline year: 305 ARE
-
Reports coming from Coruscant show a marked increase in crime statistics, specifically vigilante justice. The Judges are cracking down on the vigilante groups but have so far been unsuccessful.
---
According to Confederation sources the Jedi Order has joined the conflict on the side of the terrorist organisation calling itself the Alliance of Free Planets, declaring war on the Confederation of Dolomar. The Confederation openly condemned this move by the former peacekeeping group, one representative going so far as accusing them of indoctrination of the youth and fearmongering.
---
The galactic superstar Mystiq Venus had her recent album 'Tangerine Kisses' go platinum. In celebration of this tremendous success Venus is planning on launching a tour through the Core, Inner, and Mid Rims to thank her fans for their dedication. A percentage of the proceeds will be given to The Norman and Valzeek Charity for Wartime Orphans.

The planet's Force signature materialized as Ember dropped the Skywalker from hyperspace - a large sphere of energy, floating among much smaller points of light in the vast black of space, always made for an interesting backdrop. There were patches of Force on the planet that indicated settlements, usually twisted between red and blue - a conflict of the people there between good intentions and bad ones. The bad ones win, most of the time.

Diversity always happened on a backwater place like Tatooine, the most natural haven for every criminal and scumbag in the galaxy. Lawless to a fault, the place was left to the Hutts a long time ago. They did little to actually control the chaos, figuring that if the feds were busy with the normal crowd, they could go about their own business with little interruption. Of course, they were right.

So it was here Ember found herself on this most auspicious day - her 25th birthday. She'd been working towards this for a while now, finally meeting a face to the Alliance missions she'd been running.

Oh, sure, they weren't indicated as Alliance missions. Some essential supplies here, a weapons run there, but it was easy to tell after a few runs from the same guy. He always wanted her to carry weapons or survival supplies past a patrol area or make emergency medical deliveries. Whoever they were, they were well hidden and very careful. At least they were happy with how fast she ran the supplies. Repeat customers meant more reputation, which meant more money, which meant a better ship, which meant faster runs and repeat customers. She loved beneficial cycles, especially when they benefited her.

She began her journey down to the planet, preparing the systems for landing and sending a comm message to Mos Espa control.

"Mos Espa, this is Skywalker requesting a free bay to la-"

She cut off as she felt something in the back of her head. Something was wrong with the ship - he wasn't riding as smooth as he normally did, and it bugged her. She'd have to run a diagnostic when she got to the surface, and she needed to get there fast.

A reply came through the comm speaker - a droid. Go figure.

"Please try again, Skywalker, I did not copy.""I said, this is Skywalker, requesting a free bay. I've got a mechanical problem, though, and I need to get it fixed right away. Faster would be better!""Copy that, Skywalker. You are cleared for landing in docking bay 94.""Thank you!"

She flicked off the comm and focused on landing as she heard a strange whine. Now the normal engine was starting to give. This landing was getting worse all the time.

The surface rushed up to her as she struggled to keep it slow. She clicked on the emergency systems as she guided her ship towards the now-open bay, keeping calm. Taking a deep breath, she loosened her grip on the controls, letting her instincts guide her to the bay. Her piloting senses kicked in, and she centered herself, refusing to panic. She knew what she was doing, and she had been in worse situations before. She moved the ship with a steady hand, reigning it into the docking bay and leveling out before gently settling it down with a hiss and a thump. A beep sounded from her console - the engine was shot until she could get to it.

She sighed. Great. Time to make some repairs, but she was most certainly going to miss her meeting.

Unless…

She flicked on the comm once more, dialing into a different frequency. Maybe he'd be up to a change in locale. "Nova, this is Firefly. I've encountered some engine trouble, I'm gonna have to make some repairs. If you're fine with it, we can talk while I fix. Docking bay 94, repeat, nine-four. See you soon. Firefly out."

She kept the channel open, relaying it to her comlink before sighing and leaning back. This ship wouldn't fix itself. Grabbing her tool kit from underneath the console, she moved into her room and did a quick clothes change. She emerged in a plain white tank-top with dark work pants and gloves, deciding ultimately to forgo a bra. Maybe he'd notice.

The ramp to the ship lowered and she moved back to the engine room before she lay on the floor and slid herself underneath a removed engine case. She left the ramp open. Hopefully he'd get the hint.

The Krayt Dragon's Pearl was a nice enough place; it conformed to the general standards of Tatooinian cantinas. Watered down alcohol, danger of sand being swallowed and plenty of shady folk to keep you on your toes. It was, like Nar Shaddaa, drenched in the criminal element, at least in the cities. The Hutts had always had a firm grip on Tatooine and Nar Shaddaa and the culture of the planet was a unique mix between crime, survival and ordinary life. Not everyone were criminals, and those who were weren't considered so by those who controlled business on Tatooine, only when the criminals got out of hand. The planets, with little influence from the Confederation or the former Republic, held those who abided by the first come first serve principle.

As it was, Wes had spent years haunting similar places as the Pearl. He was intimately familiar with how things went, but he was far more familiar with Nar Shaddaa than Tatooine, but there was little difference to be had. He wasn't here to play the role of criminal; his guise was that of an honest spacer, moving goods from point A to point B, held up on Tatooine due to his ship needing repairs. It was a fairly generic cover, but it was common enough that people hardly thought twice about it. Wes had been mindful enough to make sure that the ship really did need repairs though, so no wandering Fed looking for trouble could stick his or her nose into his business. It was a fairly simple thing to make a rat disappear though, but it was better to not tempt the Confederation.

Like his cover, his choice of clothing was simple. He wore his generic wanderer outfit, simple trousers with a shirt and coat, and over this he wore a simple brown cloak designed to keep the sand off. His Corellian Bloodstripes were notably absent, more for the sake of not announcing his ethnicity to everyone around him. Corellian's nowadays had a tendency to attract unwanted attention from anyone who were daft enough to think that all Corellians were enemies of the Confederation. There was some justification in that, most were outspoken as to how much they disliked Confederate actions, but there were a fair few of Corellians who actually worked closely with the Feds, and disliking the way they operated did not make a traitor to the government.

A glance at his chrono confirmed that the scheduled time for the meeting was coming up. Up to now he'd been playing the part of lonesome patron, enjoying his drinks in peace, but it would be a simple think to switch his attitude to one of welcome once the one he was waiting for arrived, if she did at all. The Miraluka had done a fair amount of work for the Alliance, meaning that they were willing to meet to discuss their working relationship further. Generally, Wes didn't handle these things, and as meetings tended to be the more dangerous of covert operations, his second in command rarely liked seeing him go, but Wes was a hard man to keep down. He wouldn't be chained to his paperwork when he'd been such an active operative in the budding years of the Alliance. It was in his blood to keep an active role in furthering the Alliance's goals. If this did happen to be a trap, he didn't exactly come unprepared.

The vibrating of his comm. took his attention away from his covert regard of the entrance way, knowing that it held no interest for him for now as anything other than an exit. The comm. frequency was only one the Miraluka he was meeting possessed, if she was contacting him it meant she'd encountered difficulties and would either call off the meeting or suggest another spot. Taking that as his signal, he finished up the last dregs of his drink and rose from his seat, sauntering easily to the exit and making his escape from the smoky cantina with little notice.

Entering the harsh sunlight of the twin suns of Tatooine, he brought the hood up over his head, moving off to find a secluded spot to listen to the message left. He replayed several times, listening intently for any fluctuations in her voice that might reveal any lies on her part, but without her body language he couldn't tell accurately, she seemed to sound entirely truthful, with no hesitation in her speech. Wes experienced no hesitation in deciding to comply with her suggestion.

He was quick to make his way to the docking bay she'd named in her message, approaching with ease. It took some time to cross the distance between the Pearl and the docking bays, but not very long. The door to the bay was sealed, needing a code to open, but a quick slicing job allowed him entrance and he left it as it had been as he approached the ship. There was no trace of anyone outside, but the ramp was opened invitingly. It was a prime method of ambush, Wes knew, but he wasn't stupid enough to miss suspicious people hanging around the bay. There were none, so there was no threat from the outside. The ship itself probably couldn't contain too many people to fight, but again, the woman hadn't given him a reason to be suspicious enough to force her to meet him here rather than to take the obvious invitation of entrance.

Taking a chance, as he was wont to do, he ascended the ramp casually, the ingrained habit of keeping his movements and steps silent arising as his instincts adjusted for the new environment. Like usual however, none of his body language actually revealed the habits he'd developed through his work, he barely noticed how he could sneak up on people without actually meaning to, it was merely a natural occurrence. The Miraluka would of course most likely 'see' him before she heard him anyway; the way they saw without having eyes was a peculiar one.

Once inside the ship, he swept the hood off his head and ran a hand through his hair, recalling for a moment the usual layout of the Dynamic-class before he proceeded. Making his way across the cargo area which could double as a garage, he moved into the hallway leading into the engine room, entering it while being mindful of his surroundings. No one was standing around, but he could see the woman's legs sticking out from under the engine, probably dealing with the delicate innards of the engine. Deciding to wait until she was finished with whatever she was doing, he leaned up against the nearby wall and gazed at her with some interest. He'd wait for her prompting before he spoke. She was the one who had arranged the meeting, after all.

A new Force signature walked onto her ship, so Ember turned to face it as it moved up the entry ramp. His signature was small - he wasn't stronger in the Force than your average person, but he carried himself with a confidence you can't fake. He was cautious, too - something she'd expected. She continued to tinker with the coolant supply hose, tightening one end and thwacking it once with her spanner as the man approached and leaned against the wall.

She worked for a few more minutes as he waited patiently - guess he was the man she was expecting. Giving the hose one more twist, she set the spanner down in her tool box, which she shoved out from under the engine. "You're a patient man, Nova. Guess I expected no other from someone fighting a war."

She slid herself out from under the engine and smiled up at him from the floor, a pleasant one despite the state she was in. She was lying flat on her back, streaks of dust and grease on her face and arms, tarnishing her slightly pale skin. Her tank top had been mucked up, lines of grease and dust splotches making it significantly less white, and her bare midriff was showing from having it slide up a little. Her plain off-white eyecloth was also a little dirty, though she wouldn't have even considered taking it off around someone she just met.

"Sorry about the mess. Coolant line burst on the way in, causing the actuators in both the hyperdrive and sublight engines to break. Lucky me I have spare parts." She pushed herself off the ground and adjusted her clothes and hair before looking up at the man, getting his physical shape and state in at last. He was taller than her by a good 8 or 9 inches, and was most certainly in better shape than she. His clothes were plain, good enough to blend in around here. Then again, all you needed to do that was to have a blaster strapped to your side.

She settled back into a comfortable stance, pulling off her gloves and laying them down in her tool box. The smile remained as she met his eyes and extended a clean hand for him to shake. "Ember Shoan. Nice to finally meet you. Sorry about the change in locale, too. This probably looked more suspicious than it was."

An eyebrow quirked as his lips twisted into a lopsided grin, it was an astute observation, although patience on the part of the Alliance was something they had stocked well. Operations like theirs needed time to grow before it could rise to be an entity to be properly reckoned with. In the Confederations eyes, they were still small fry, which was the truth when it came to the fleet and their forces, but unlike the Confederation the Alliance didn't just operate on the militant arenas. Work in the Alliance needed patience, spy work in particular.

"Depends on what sort of war you're waging, but I figure you have us pinned there."

Watching with interest as the miraluka extricated herself from underneath her engines; he let his eyes take her in freely, his head cocked slightly to the side as he took in her state. It was clear she was dressed for convenience rather than anything else, covered in the engine oil and grease that came from working on the engine. His eyes settled for longer than perhaps strictly necessary on her bare midriff, but he moved on to assess the general shape of her. It was clear than she was no stranger to keeping herself fit; her musculature indicated a body well prepared for the strains of melee combat.

From what he could read of her body language, there was no deception, only the signs of habit that were established through years of training. Any remaining suspicion drained away, but the subconscious act of categorising everything and keeping an eye on his surroundings remained. Outwardly, as ever, he appeared relaxed. The years spent checking his own body language and reading others ensured that nothing he did would cause him to unwittingly reveal something he didn't want revealed.

"Lucky me I have spare parts."

Waiting as he rose to her feet and assessed him such as he had assessed her, while simultaneously getting a better chance at letting his skills within reading body language to evaluate her further. It was always easier to read people when they were sitting or standing, walking or running. The motion involved with getting herself out from under the engine and then up on her two feet would indicate something in her nature, as did all motion of muscle, but this gave a more overall view.

"... suspicious than it was."

Stepping forward, he took her hand and shook it, eyes connecting with the cloth covering hers. Any lesser man would've perhaps found it unnerving, Miraluka weren't exactly common, but Wes was widely travelled enough to find himself not bothered by her lack of eyes, one could say that he was more curious around how that worked. That was a defining feature, curiosity in the face of new information to be had. Perhaps it wasn't completely farfetched that he'd gone from being a simple pilot to an Intelligence operative.

"It was," he confirmed with a small smirk. "But I'm fairly used to things not going completely as planned. Comes with the territory."

He gestured vaguely to the main living area, indicating his intentions. "Let's not stand about when we're talking business. The only loss of changing meeting places was the drinks, but this is far more convenient. Away from prying eyes if there existed any." He moved out of the engine room and towards the main hold.

"So tell me, what business plan prompted this rather illicit meeting?" He threw her a sideways glance, a grin on his face and his eyes twinkling humorously.

She smiles knowingly, still looking up at him. "Well, in your kind of war, you have to be. It's never easy being the underdog." She liked him. Quick on the uptake, grinning at her words, and pretty educated to boot. A comment like that was well-placed and knowledgeable.

Her motions carry an air of confidence - maybe even a little arrogance. She's deliberate and precise, but also a little showy; she moves more than is necessary sometimes. It's almost flirtatious, with the extra flowing movement and smooth actions. There's a familiar style and grace to it; it betrays some of her Jedi training while she was learning how to move around. It's mixed with her own unique flair, though, a strange combination of Jedi finesse with mercenary swagger and a walk of confidence.

She shook his hand firmly, noticing his own muscles. Well toned, well curved. This man had seen more than his share of fights, and probably won most of them. She kept her eyes (or lack thereof) focused on his own, and was a little surprised when he didn't react. Most people found her eyeless gaze unsettling at the least, downright frightening at the worst. He merely seemed curious and curiouser. Another point for him, then.

"…completely as planned. Comes with the territory."

She nodded knowingly. "Again, sorry. You know how ships can be. Sounds like you've seen a lot of action yourself, with words like that." He seemed trustworthy, too…or, at least he didn't want to kill her. Guess this was indeed the right man. She relaxed a little, letting her muscles down and her mind to slow a bit.

"…from prying eyes if there existed any.""

She chuckled and tilted her head, a grin on her own ace now. "Oh, don't worry. I can provide the drinks myself, if that's what you're after. As for the barfight and dancing girls…" She could see her looking him over one more time, and her smile changed to a slight smirk. "…I think you could hand me my ass in a fist fight, and I'll only dance if you ask nicely. Very nicely." Her smirk changed to a much more obvious one. Yep, she liked him alright - at least enough to do business with him.

She lead the way from the engine room down the hall to the main hold. It was a little different from the usual way of this ship model - the holoprojector in the middle had been eliminated, and in its place were a few more comfy-looking chairs, a holotable for games, and a small food/drink storage area. The room itself was somewhat neat - no stuff piled on chairs or the floor, and rather clean of dust. IT looked like she really tried to keep this place tidy for occasions just like this one. She indicated one of the chairs with a small gesture. "Go ahead and sit down anywhere, Nova. I guess I'll start at the beginning while I make your drink. What would you like?"

((OoC: I'm going to assume he tells her a drink here.))

"So tell me, what business plan prompted this rather illicit meeting?"

After taking his order, she opened up the small cooler and pulled out the proper ingredients, both for her drink and his. "Well, I was hoping to do two things. One, meet the man behind all those requests I've been getting…" She noticed his grin and grinned back a little herself, and she caught the odd sparking in his eye. An interesting man. She'd have to be careful around him, but it wasn't getting killed or hurt that she was worried about. No…there was something else about him. Might not hurt to let her guard down, though. This could be fun.

She finished up the drink and handed it to him in a plain glass tumbler before taking a sip of her own Alderaanian Forest and sitting down in a chair to face him. The cool liquid felt good in her throat and mouth after she had been working on that still-warm engine, and she did always like a small reward for her hard work. It also always helped having someone to drink with, and he could tell she was unwinding as she leaned back in the chair before she resumed speaking.

"And two, I want to help out in your organization more. I know I've been doing mostly supply runs for the past few months, but I want to contribute more to your effort. Obviously, I can't be publicly helping you guys out, but I can offer you my flights at a discounted price, and maybe do a little more. I'd be more than happy to work with you personally." She smirked a little. "Perhaps we could get to…know each other better." She leaned forward a little, putting her elbows on her knees and using them to support her as she looked forward, again meeting his gaze with that same smirk on her lips.

I can do more than just fly ships well, Nova. I'm a damn good mechanic, and I'd be more than happy to do whatever else you feel I could handle. I can handle quite a bit, you know." She took another long sip of her drink, swirling the ice around in her tumbler as the smirk shifted to a smile. "That's what this illicit meeting is about. So, what do you think, Nova? Think you could use a girl like me?" Her smile grew wider, and it appeared slightly mischievous, though not antagonistic in any sense of the word.

Ember Shoan certainly was an interesting character. Like many spacers, she carried herself with confidence and a hint of arrogance. That was where the similarities stopped however, as her movements were clearly that of someone trained; deliberate movements that made her seem all the more elegant to the viewer. It was clear she knew how to take care of trouble. It was also of note that her body language seemed to convey a certain level of flirtatiousness, something that couldn't help but cause a slight smirk to arise as he discovered it. He was seeing a lot of his younger self in her, before all the mess around the war started up.

The most curious thing, however, was the style of how she moved and held herself. It was faint, but Wes' keen eyes picked it up. She'd gone through Jedi training at some point, he recognised it from the numerous Jedi Masters and Knights he'd seen, as well the Padawan who was his own son. It was strange to view, the deliberate and graceful movements of the Jedi mixed with the style of a mercenary, as well as a confidence you never saw in Jedi. Most of them tended to be humble, or appear humble at least. He'd have to investigate further on the matter, perhaps speak to Master Marin about this curious find, but that was a task for later.

"Sounds like you've seen a lot of action yourself, with words like that."

That was putting it mildly, Wes thought, but didn't respond with anything beyond a rather bemused smile. As far as Shoan knew, Nova was just her caretaker, his rank and other background information was something she hadn't been given. Of course, if she'd linked him up with the now apparently dead Wes Loran she'd find a colourful review of his life in the Confederate databases that were open for the public. All lies and slander of course, they even had the birth date wrong. However, it was unlikely that she recognised him as the Wes Loran that had been announced dead a few years ago, as that Wes Loran had been in his fifties, not his forties, and cloning wasn't exactly a common thing in the galaxy. It'd take some seriously impressive reasoning to figure out who he really was without actually having him tell her, or permitting her into the Alliance as a full member.

"Very nicely."

At her words, he let out an incredulous laugh, he couldn't really believe he was being flirted with so obviously. It had been ages since anyone this refreshing at been playing his own game such as he did. Perhaps it was a sign he needed to get out more, or perhaps people who dealt primarily in war simply didn't think along the same lines he did. With a small shake of his head, he followed her into the main hold. It was rather comfortable, designed more as a living area than as a main hold. That made it clear that Shoan clearly thought of the ship as home, and was unlikely to have much beyond the things on her ship.

"What would you like?"

"Anything Corellian, if you have it," he said with a shrug, taking her invitation to a chair and settling into the closest one. They were settling into something more comfortable and relaxed than before, a setting that Wes preferred when he was dealing with things like this. If the other was tense it was usually a sign that things were going to go badly, he liked avoiding that as much as he could.

"One, meet the man behind all those requests I've been getting…"

"Hey, I'm just the messenger," he said with a laugh, accepting the drink she came with. Taking a whiff and a small taste, he discovered to his pleasure that it was Corellian whiskey he'd been handed. He enjoyed his drink as she settled down, unwinding from her work as it appeared. He waited patiently for her to speak.

"Perhaps we could get to…know each other better."

Angling his head to the side, he gave her a bemused look, his smile quirked slightly, but he looked definitely interested in her offer. He remained leaned back in his chair, the picture of relaxation as she leaned forward. Her words were interesting, in more ways than one, but he was geared towards business now. Whether or not they would be able to work together was uncertain. He mostly did intelligence missions, and he wasn't certain if her skills were suited for that sort of work. He was sure they could find use of her through her shipping work, as they had already done, but a seemingly unconnected freighter captain could do well towards their information gathering plots.

"I can handle quite a bit, you know."

"I have no doubt," he said with a smirk. He'd already realised she was perfectly capable, but he didn't have specifics as to what her skills were. He'd have to right out ask her, it was as simple as that.

"Think you could use a girl like me?"

"We can always use a girl like you," he said, accompanying the works with a smirk and a wink. "But the question here is what sort of work can you do? Your preferences suit you more towards diplomatic or intelligence work, there's plenty work to be had." He rolled his shoulders slightly, taking another drink from his tumbler.

"What sort of work do you see yourself doing for the Alliance?" He shot her a questioning glance, eyebrows raised as he waited for an answer to his query.

He'd laughed incredulously at her dancing comment - a good sign. He was loosening up, relaxing some for this, which is what she wanted. Tense discussion with men in uniform belonged to board rooms and military halls. This was her home, and here, she would talk in an air of relaxation. She was, admittedly, flirting more than usual with him, but she found him a little charming and was willing to see where this could go.

"Hey, I'm just the messenger."

She nodded. "It's better than an anonymous HoloNet message, and having a face behind all those orders makes them easier to follow. Means I'm doing it for someone personal, someone with a cause, rather than a company…or worse. I'm sure you understand." She smiled again, quite relaxed now in her chair, despite the grime-covered state she was in. She hoped he didn't mind.

"What sort of work do you see yourself doing for the Alliance?"

She continued her mischievous smile, still leaning forward. "Well…" She took another sip, taking the time to compose her thoughts. She knew she shouldn't brag, but she didn't want to appear useless. This could be her one shot to get in closer to the organization and really help out. She'd been on the wrong side of the law more than once for little cause other than money, and that always bugged her a little. Though she didn't agree with some Jedi teachings, their emphasis on having a strong cause to believe in had stuck with her. She wanted to fight for something - or someone, if that's what it took.

"You already know how good I am with both this ship and my tool box, so I won't bother with that. As for everything else, I can see myself doing some intelligence work or possibly, as you mentioned, diplomatic. I've found I can talk to lowlifes such as myself as easily as I can talk to a high-class diplomat. I've always been an adapter, and this is certainly not an exception. If you need someone to pretend to be someone with more or less class, I can help with that."

She took another sip from her drink, the ice clinking gently in the glass before she set it down on the chair's armrest. "In addition, spacers roam the galaxy far and wide - they blend in with others of their kind, and I'm no different. I also have a legitimate business sending and shipping packages, meaning I can get into places most normal people can't for a real reason. I haven't done much…espionage, is the term, but I'm a fast learner in most cases.

"Fighting isn't my strong suit, but I do have a…particular set of skills that lend themselves well to new and different situations. I've relied on them before, and I know they'll help me in any way they can. I'm sure you've seen them before, so be assured that they're nothing illegal or unusual. They're just…exotic."

She picked up the glass and drained the little bit of liquid remaining in it, giving a small sigh of contentment as she set it back down on the armrest, still leaning forward and meeting his eyes. "I hope that does answer your question to your satisfaction, Nova. Anything else, while I'm at it?"

“Can’t say I disagree,” Wes replied with a small shrug, quite clearly seeing the truth in her words. “Done my fair share of shipping work, always more pleasurable when you know who deserves that punch in the face for cheating you out of your fairly earned pay.” He chuckled,

“I can help with that."

Nodding absently, he swirled his tumbler a bit, thinking over what she was saying as he enjoyed. Waving the tumbler gently under his nose, he took in the woody scent of the whiskey with that faint hint of spice, all the while his mind went over the options he could offer Shoan. There were many people who could operate in the same fashion she did, himself for one, as well as Colonel Cheydin. The Alliance had an abudancy of former criminals with connections, mostly because that was the sort of people they attracted. People inconvenienced by the Confederation. As it happened, they had a lot of work going in that direction as well.

“They're just…exotic."

“And you think we’d care if it was illegal or not?” He questioned with a laugh. “The Alliance isn’t so legal from the view of most governments; we’d hardly be inconvenienced by little criminal shenanigans. I’m sure anything you have to offer would be of endless use to us.”

“Anything else, while I'm at it?"

“It seems you’ve covered everything. We can look into what sort of work you can take, but you’ll have to visit one of our bases and get a thorough background check.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, it’s standard procedure. After that I’ll have to look over what we have to offer up that lane before I can give you another assignment. Probably take a while, but you have our frequency and we have yours.” He finished off his drink, settling the tumbler down gently, throwing Shoan a grin. “In return, we’ll pay you and offer you safe haven when you need it. Permanently, if you feel for it.”

He rose from the seat, brushing his hands together, smiling pleasantly. “If you agree to that, you can make your way to the location I give you, and the work will come to you. You’ll be dealing with the Intelligence division mostly, so I’m sure we’ll be able to work together, sometime. So, what do you say?”

She chuckled knowingly. "I've been there a few times…I don't punch very hard, though, so I've needed to rely on alternative methods." She smiled somewhat evilly, fond memories coming back to her.

"I’m sure anything you have to offer would be of endless use to us."

Her smiled turned into one of slight relief. She wasn't embarrassed, but wasn't sure how they felt about those skills in particular. "That's good to hear, then. I'd like to be useful in areas that are not my direct expertise. I like to think that adaptability and improvisation matters more than you think out there."

Her words were mostly true to herself, and she remember more than one occasion where those lessons in that Temple had saved her life. It's always a surprise to some criminal scumwad when the knife he was threatening her with was suddenly in her own hand. Granted, more people than he had enough sense to hold onto it tighter, but it worked sometimes. The intimidation factor alone was sufficient to make them run.

“In return, we’ll pay you and offer you safe haven when you need it. Permanently, if you feel for it."

She nodded. "I would like that very much. I don't really have a solid home…it comes with me wherever I go, and I've been very lucky so far to have it still in one piece. Having a semi-permanent place that I know I can always return to would be…comforting, really." She grinned, but it seemed rather far-off. Her mind was exploring days long past, when times were simpler and she was around people she loved. She'd left because she wanted to, but that didn't mean that an old longing for what was once home never appeared to tug her heartstrings.

She studied him some as he finished his drink and put that grin on his face. This meeting had gone better than she hoped, despite the mechanical trouble. She was thinking she'd be lucky if she'd gotten one or two future deals out of it, maybe more than just shipping. Instead she'd gotten a great offer and an excellent contact. He was serious now (sort of), but she could detect something behind that demeanor, and his charming grin held something more for sure. He certainly was the interesting type.

"So, what do you say?”

She rose as he did, keeping eye contact…or…veil contact. She kept her own smile on as his turned pleasant, feeling this was indeed her lucky day. "To that, I say yes, and thank you. I can start doing work right away." She was also rather glad at getting to work with him. She liked him, and wanted to start peeling away the layers of the Nova onion. "Well, not literally right away, Nova. Still got that engine to fix. Anything else, or are we done business?" she said, tilting her head to the side a bit in inquiry.

¨Wes laughed lightly, faced with her enthusiasm. It wasn't a novel thing, not at all. In these times, an eagerness to risk life and limb seemed almost a tradition. Living in this age seemed to be all about risk, despite your walk of life. He'd seen many people swept up into the violence that the despot rule of Dolomar breeds among those who aren't satisfied. Alliance was one of many rebel groups, but the only one who was organised about it and had ideas outside their own home system. This concerned the galaxy whether people liked it or not, Wes was glad that people who, seemingly, were widely unconnected with the troubles the Confederation was handing good honest folk.

She would surely be an asset, willing to do work for them. There would be a limit, of course, there always was with those who didn't fully know what the Confederation had to offer the galaxy. The Alliance would have to show her why they fought, beyond what the common folk knew. Show her how rabid the Confederation really was beneath the shined veneer of their public appearance.

"Anything else, or are we done business?"

He spread his hands slightly, smiling in a disarming manner. "I believe we're done with business, I just need to give you the coordinates of the base we want you to check by first, for the background check." He searched his pockets briefly, hands going underneath his cloak with a purpose, seeking out the pocket that held what he sought. He pulled it forward again holding a scrap of flimsy, handing it over to the woman. "If you get caught, swallow it," he said with a smirk.

Steadily his expression turned calculating, considering. "There is one more thing, if it won't inconvenience you." His head tilted to the side, eyes bordering on the mischievous, but mostly merely curious. "I've noticed a certain... quality to the way you move." As he said this, his eyes couldn't help but slide down the length of her body, purely calculating, but anyone with an imagination could perhaps pin certain other emotions behind the motion. He took a single step closer, hand brushing Shoan's shoulder slightly, as if brushing away imaginary dirt.

"Don't have to answer if you don't want to, of course," he amended. "But I'm curious as to where your training comes from." He fixed her with a look that on the surface seemed purely quizzical, but managed to convey a certain predatory air to it, as Wes was wont to do when he was digging for information.

She smirked and took the paper, glancing at it before stowing it into a pocket on her pants. This was going better than expected. A place to go already, future job offers…not quite a dream come true, but close enough compared to how she though this was going to go down. Now all she needed to do was fix this ship and keep this guy around for a little while longer. At least long enough to find out his name. "I'll do my best."

"There is one more thing, if it won't…to the way you move."

She tilted her own head, curious. He was quite perceptive if he noticed small things like that, and his shoulder brush seemed inspired by other things than just curiousity. She couldn't really, tell though - he was always hiding something, probably more from habit than anything else. "Have you now?" she mused. "You're quite attentive. I can't be sure if you're looking at just the way I move, or what exactly is moving." She smirked slightly. Cheesy again. He seemed to like it, though.

"Don't have to answer if you don't want to, of course, but I'm curious as to where your training comes from."

He glance seemed almost hungry, and not that kind of hungry. He wanted knowledge more than the rest, and though the look appeared to be light and curious, she knew enough to look a bit behind it. His stance, the other small features of his face, they all conveyed a different air. It wasn't frightening, not to her anyway, but it was a tad strange. Still, he seemed trustworthy enough.

"It comes from the Jedi Academy on Ossus. I trained there for around 9 years of my young life before I was told in no uncertain terms that I wasn't good enough to be a Jedi, so I was ejected. The rest of my training comes from working as a mechanic and pilot for Outer Rim Fleet Systems for the 13 years since that day." She smiled some. "Those Jedi lessons come in handy sometimes, so I keep practicing the routines I knew back when I was there."

"I can tell you more, of course, but I have one question for you that I keep forgetting to ask, and I hope you're willing to answer," she said, fixing him with a pointed look of her own, a cocky smile on her face. "What's your name?"

His eyebrows raised in honest surprise at her revelation, not controlling his body language as he usually did so tightly. He'd imagined the Miraluka would be able to see beyond his mere attitude in body, look at him through the Force, or whatever they did. He'd of course expected some Jedi influence, but not exactly to this degree. He wasn't aware of what the Jedi did with their undesirables, but as he listened to her it became clear. Some indignation rose up, before he bottled it up quickly. He was sure the Jedi didn't merely kick these kids out, no, he was sure they gave them the means to support themselves before being introduced into the galaxy at wide. This was a matter he'd have to talk to Master Marin about, he hadn't really thought about it before, but now he was curious.

There was of course the question of how much this Padawan-dropout knew about the workings of the Force. As the Jedi had proven themselves, the Force was an efficient tool in the work the Alliance liked to do, but he was sure she didn't have their level of knowledge, considering it was Masters and Knights doing the work. It would be interesting to see what exactly she could do with the Force first hand, perhaps he would have to take her up on taking a job on together. The opportunity would be interesting, to say the least.

"I knew back when I was there."

Chuckling good-naturedly, he nodded his head slightly. "I can imagine you've benefitted from that, interesting people, those Jedi." If he had the capacity, he might've wanted to benefit from that himself, if the very idea of being a Jedi didn't make him queasy. Jedi themselves he had no problem with, but it was their Order, and what they hadn't done until recently, that bothered him the most. He could never see himself serving an Order that claimed to be preservers of peace, but let the Confederation stomp all over the galaxy. They were mending his opinion of them now, however, as their inaction had turned into action, action specifically directed at helping the Alliance.

"I hope you're willing to answer,"

Unlikely, but he'd see what her question was before he decided that. He remained silent, instead cocking his head to the side and considering her with a little sly smile, as if he knew what she was going to ask before she did. If he actually did was debatable, he had a few guesses as to what sort of questions she would ask, based off what information had been exchanged, what hadn't and what sort of person she seemed to be.

"What's your name?"

He hummed thoughtfully, bemused eyes trained on her. "If I give you one, will you believe me?" He wouldn't be answering that question, not truthfully at least, and there was really no precedence to lie to her when she was close to the point where she was cleared to know. If he did happen to be truthful, she might think he'd be lying anyway, Wes Loran was dead, not to mention older than he looked at the moment. It would be better to merely leave her to wonder and find out when she eventually could.

"Maybe later, kid," he said with a wink, sidestepping her as he spoke, moving towards the hallway leading back to the ramp.

She smiled at his surprise. Most people didn't realize that there were ex-Jedi or washouts. They weren't very common, granted, but they still existed in the random corners of the galaxy. Very few wished to make that fact known - it seemed to embarrass or shame them. Ember didn't care, or so she told herself. She wasn't qualified to be a Jedi then, and she was sure she wouldn't qualify now. Physically, she was better, but mentally? Nah. Her ideas and values were too far twisted to fit in with their neat little rows. Not everyone can walk the straight and narrow.

She nodded. "Yeah, what they've taught me has saved my ass on more than one occasion. It helps get the drop on people or at least surprise them with a well-place rock from their side. That's all it takes to make a quick escape sometimes." She sighed, shrugging slightly and shifting her weight to one side before looking lower, seemingly lost in thought. "It's not that I mind them ejecting me. I just didn't have the physical ability. No one took me as a Padawan, despite my prodigious Force skill, so I left. Didn't get much help, either - a survival kit, some food, clothes, credits, and a ride to a spaceport."

She shook her head, looking up back to his eyes and smiling. "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear to random stories and old remembrances of a failed Jedi. I'm happy with things now. Or…mostly, anyway." She was telling the truth as he could tell, though he could see something being hidden there if he looked hard enough. Maybe she wasn't as okay with being washed out as she said she was.

She was curious at his head tilt and smile after her "willing to answer". He seemed to read her like a book - or at least be extremely good at reading her cover. She never felt this exposed before (in a metaphorical way, of course). It was kind of cool. She'd never really tried to reveal much to people, attempting to operate like he did - in secrets and diversions. Meeting someone who worked like that all the time was a revealing experience. It was also about this time that she discovered it was incredibly infuriating when trying to get a straight answer.

"If I give you one, will you believe me?"

She shook her head. "No. You're too careful, and I'm sure you'd lie to me anyway..." she said, smiling and trailing off. No sense beating around the bush.

"Maybe later, kid."

She turned to face his back as he left. She considered letting him go, but felt that doing so would mean missing out on an opportunity. He was here now, she might as well enjoy the visit. Recalling her Jedi lessons and one of those routines she'd practiced endlessly, she reached out through the Force and found the door controls beside the exit.

The entry ramp closed with a loud hiss before he'd even left the main living room. She hadn't moved since he last saw her, leading to one conclusion as to how she'd closed it. She was also smiling - a little playfully, but he noticed that the look had a certain predatory air to it, as he had put it.

"…which means one of two possibilities," she stated, continuing her earlier sentence. "One, you've got something on your record you don't want me to know about; two, you've got a story behind why you won't tell me that you think I wouldn't believe. I'm not really sure which one to bet on, personally." She began to walk around him slowly, looking him up and down with a discerning gaze.

"You reveal nothing about yourself in your stance or your movements, and you manage to hide how you feel and what you think very well. That in itself is almost as telling as not revealing anything - you're used to deception and lies. Based on that call, I think I can make a fairly accurate guess that whatever I find on you that is publicly available will be false. You don't want to be found, except by those you want to find you." She continued to walk around him, one arm folded across her body and supporting the elbow of her other arm, where her hand was on her chin.

"You also haven't dropped any clues as to who you really are, so I can make no assumptions about your background, your history, your personal life, or even where you were born. You've done your homework about hiding in plain sight, and I do know you work in intelligence for the Alliance. It's your job to know everything and at the same time, reveal nothing. You're very good at that part. However, your address of me as 'kid' leads me to believe that you're older than me by at least a decade, probably more than just one. I've got a basic frame to work with, but the finer details are entirely absent." She was no stranger to this kind of talk - she was almost in a lecture mode, continuing to circle around him while she spoke, occasionally looking back at him, but focusing more on what she was saying rather than what she was doing.

She stopped back where she started, looking up at him, making that strange not-quite-eye-contact again. "To conclude…I have absolutely no idea who you are, Nova, and it somewhat bugs me. It's a mystery I'm rather keen on solving, to be honest. You can leave now," and the landing ramp opened up with another hiss, "but I've got no other plans today. If you're free, stay a while. Have another drink. Hell, maybe we'll get a little crazy and talk plainly - or at least swap old stories." She smiled slightly, waiting to see his reaction. Her stance made it quite clear what she hoped his answer was.

The sound of grinding gears and the ramp closing made him halt. In any other situation, he'd have his blaster at the ready, perhaps his force pike to neutralise the threat and question the culprit, but this was different. He didn't fear her powers in the Force, Wes was beyond that, he'd seen how Jedi had trained, fought and hadn't exactly kept his eyes closed. It was mere tactics and how you used what you knew when it came to taking down a Jedi. Taking down a Jedi-dropout would be simple enough, but that was not what was to happen, not until she took an additional step that brought Wes' hackles to raise, honed through training and experience to recognise a hostile action as he was, he didn't think she wanted to fight him.

Turning, he regarded her with a raised eyebrow, wondering what she wanted now. Her smile was playful, her gaze what could be described as predatory. He'd seen it in a lot of different connections, sexual, business, casual conversation, but this was probably more close to the sort of predatory attitude he tended to get, when information was to be had and he wanted it.

"I'm not really sure which one to bet on, personally."

"How about the fact that I'm an operative for the Alliance and couldn't tell you my name even if I wanted to," he suggested blandly, looking bored as she began pacing around him. His relationship to his name was irrelevant, the fact that she wasn't a full member of the Alliance yet was. She'd be privy to names once she passed the background check.

"... publicly available will be false.

He remained silent as she spoke now, eyes following the woman circling him each time she was pacing in front of him. Curious behaviour, the stance she held with her hands was reminiscent to the old detective holovids, where the ace detective was revealing layer and layer of evidence to support his, or her, theory. Thoughtful, pensive, but with a taste of show around it, depending on how you viewed it.

"... probably more than just one."

An eyebrow rose at that particular statement. Finding out he was older than her wasn't exactly a difficult task. He might not look his proper biological age, but forty was still a couple of decades away from her age in the twenties range. There was the fact that he didn't know how much she actually saw with those eyes of hers, or lack thereof, he couldn't be certain what she managed to see and what she didn't see.

"... and it somewhat bugs me."

Slowly, a smirk unfolded across his mouth, indicating a certain amount of bemusement at her words. The whole point of everything Wes did was to make sure he'd pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, but it would be unfair of him to deprave her of any credit in revealing that fact. He hadn't guarded himself as he did usually, but she was one of few who'd managed to figure that particular fact out without him being obvious about it. He wasn't sure if it was her skills of deduction or her peculiar sight he should be praising.

"... or at least swap old stories."

"And how many of my stories would you believe? You've already pinned me as a perpetual liar." He chuckled slightly, sidling up to her side and slinging an arm over her shoulders, other hand coming up to pat her lightly on the cheek as he returned her gaze. "How about I make a compromise, I tell you my name, first name, and we'll have a game of questions. Whether or not I'm telling the truth you can decide for yourself."

He gave her a questioning glance, awaiting her response, but he went on. "Name's John, nice to meet you, darling." He took her hand and shook it jauntily, something slightly self-deprecating in his motions. "Now where's my drink?" He grinned, a Corellian never forgot about a promised drink.

"How about the fact that I'm an operative for the Alliance and couldn't tell you my name even if I wanted to?"

He got the distinct impression that if she could, she'd be standing there blinking. That actually hadn't occurred to her. She was too busy in her own little planet that it didn't enter into her head. She made a mental note and gave a small nod. "That's also true. I'm not done yet, though," she said as she began to walk around him before launching into her monologue.

When she was done her little speech and she noticed his smirk, she was pretty sure she'd managed to get him to stay. She was going to wait until he spoke before showing this fact, though. No one wants to be proven wrong after assuming they're right.

"How about I make a compromise, I tell you my name, first name, and we'll have a game of questions. Whether or not I'm telling the truth you can decide for yourself."

She smiled herself, a little surprised as his arm went across her shoulders, and blushing almost imperceptibly as he brushed her cheek. It worked. Now she just had to fill conversation, and she fortunately did have some stories to tell, most of them true. "I'd like that," she replied, still smiling.

"Name's John, nice to meet you, darling."

"You already know my name." She shook his hand firmly, noting the subtle shift in his attitude. "I hope I don't need to remind you of it already." She moved out from under his arm back towards the drink area as he asked for it, and she gestured towards the couch before pouring him some more Corellian whiskey. She mixed herself a small blue-green concoction before settling down next to him and handing him his drink. "So…shall I start this off, John, or would you prefer to begin this questionnaire?" She fixed him with a quizzical look as she took a sip of her mixture, already mulling over questions and stories in her head. "Actually," she continued, "I'll start us off. First off, what exactly do you do for the Alliance? I know you said intel, but you do you field work, like scouting? Socializing? Or do you more sit around the base and do analysis?"